Welcome Home
by DottieP
Summary: Future Fic: It's 10 years after high school, and Quinn and Santana live in a Chelsea  New York  loft. They've been together since senior year. Santana comes home to a waiting & ready Quinn. One shot. Pure smut.


**Welcome Home**

Future Fic: It's 10 years after high school, and Quinn and Santana live in a Chelsea loft (New York). They've been together since senior year.

"Q, babe, are y…", Santana yelled but stopped herself as she looked around her modern loft. Candlelight danced off of the hardwood floors and the art-covered walls. She canted her head towards their kitchen to try and identify the delicious aroma wafting enchantingly to her nose. _There's no way that she cooked_, thought Santana. _Cookies, maybe?_

A (rather sultry) voice broke her reverie, "Bedroom, hon." Santana followed the voice like a siren's song, dropping her leather satchel and suit blazer haphazardly over the back of the couch.

What she found in said bedroom was definitely not what she expected. Also bathed in candlelight was her very naked girlfriend, sprawled on their king-sized bed, short blonde locks strewn over expensive white cotton sheets. This sight alone was enough to make Santana's brain cease function, but then her eyes settled on Quinn's hands: one casually twisting an already-hard nipple and the other making painfully slow circles on a very wet clit. Santana could barely contain the moan that escaped her lips or the drool forming in her mouth.

"I took off work early to come home and think about you. I've been waiting," husked Quinn, finally opening her eyes to meet Santana's chocolate brown ones, which were growing darker by the second as she continued to watch Quinn's hands.

"I….you…ugh," attempted Santana.

"Clever," Quinn smirked. "I've been thinking about how you smell actually. The subtle scent of vanilla after you get out of the shower. The hint of saltiness after you've been on the treadmill." Quinn slid, like a panther, off of the bed and stalked towards Santana, still with one hand on her breast. Invading Santana's personal space, she continued, "How you smell almost like the ocean as you start to get turned on." She paused to lick her lips. "Like right now."

All Santana could do was nod, eyes never leaving Quinn's deep hazel-green.

"How your skin smells as I slowly lick my way towards your heat." This earned another moan from Santana who was now shifting her weight back and forth in frustration, in anticipation. Quinn moved both hands to her girlfriend's hips and started slowly working her way under a crisp white blouse, punctuating her movements with her words. "How I can smell you, your wetness, your need for me, almost immediately. That smell, " she again paused to roll her eyes in arousal and to shift her head as she thought about it, "drives me. Fucking. Crazy. My mouth starts to water; I can almost taste you." At this point, Santana's shirt had been discarded and trembling hands were working to remove stubborn belt and pants.

"Fuck, Quinn," was all that Santana could get out; her brain struggling to find words, to find coherence in the face of the flushed, gorgeous woman standing before her.

"And then, finally, when I'm close enough to your dripping heat, I can take you in completely-musky, sweet. Just….you." She tugs off Santana's remaining clothes, a black lace bra and thong pool at her feet. "And it's all for me. All for me to lick, to savor, to take."

Santana nods and barely ekes out, "Yes, all yours. All yours, Quinn."

"I want to take it now. I want to taste you, every inch of you, to smell how turned on I make you." She pushes a heavy-lidded Santana back towards the bed until her knees hit it, and she ungracefully falls back. Quinn straddles shaking hips, and Santana's eyes slowly travel over taut abs to the crux of creamy white thighs. Another moan as she sees how incredibly wet her girlfriend is; she unconsciously swallows hard. One finger softly lifts Santana's chin up so brown meets hazel-green. "Not yet," Quinn whispers, "I get you first. And right now, I want my tongue inside you." With that, she pushes Santana on to the bed and slips down between her legs.

"Spread your legs for me, baby," Quinn quietly demands. Santana complies, all the while watching the blonde intently.

"Wider. I want to see all of you." This time, it is Quinn who moans as Santana slowly obeys, displaying herself entirely. Hazel-green eyes get darker with want, and a tongue darts out to lick a bottom lip. Quinn just stares, biting her that lip. Santana is beyond turned on, and her hips starting moving on their own accord, eliciting another breathy moan from Quinn. "Jesus, Santana. If this is your new way of begging…" she trailed off, hypnotized by the vision in front of her.

"Please, Q, please. Just fuck me," Santana begged in her usual way. Quinn softly shook her head, liking the non-verbal way much better. She could tell the slow pace was killing the brunette, but Quinn wanted, _needed_, this. She _needed_ to take in all that Santana had to offer, to remind herself how good she had it with her girlfriend. This type of intimacy was something that she never thought that she would have, and now, with her eyes drinking in Santana's dripping wet heat, she couldn't imagine her life without it. She sighed at this, and then slowly licked the entire length of Santana.

"Oh fuck, Quinn, yes," Santana cried. Her hips bucked up towards Quinn's tongue and her back arched in the way that Quinn loved. Heaving breasts thrust into the air, hard nipples caught in the flickering candlelight, and thick brown tresses thrashed against the pillow, and Quinn never thought she looked more beautiful.

Quinn continued licking, painfully slow, over Santana, catching every drop of delicious wetness that she could get. Slow flicks of the flat of her tongue over a throbbing clit caused Santana to grind her hips into Quinn's face, garnering a throaty moan from Quinn, which vibrated into Santana's core.

The blonde couldn't bring herself to go any faster, despite the hand tightly gripping her hair, fingernails scraping her scalp, which teetered on pain - pleasurable pain. She knew Santana was getting close just by this gesture.

But, then she felt it. "Yes, baby," Quinn sighed, her breath whispering over Santana's engorged clit. "So hard for me."

Santana gripped the blonde hair harder at these words and let out a guttural moan that only fueled Quinn on further. Quinn needed more. She sucked Santana's clit into her mouth, running her tongue over it, causing more wetness to coat her lips and chin.

The smell now was intoxicating. It shifted from slightly sweet and musky to robust, intense, and thick. This was Quinn's drug; she was drunk now - drunk on Santana's essence. She often told Santana that she was addicted to her, and this is part of what she part she meant (of course there was the rest of the brunette that she loved completely).

But this. Purely addictive.

Santana's soft folds kissing Quinn's own lips, a throbbing clit on her tongue, thick wetness coating her mouth - this was exhilarating, heady.

The brunette didn't beg for more; she didn't need Quinn's fingers inside of her. She just needed Quinn's mouth, her tongue, paying homage - worshipping even - her body in this most intimate way.

Quinn released Santana's clit as she felt it retract, signaling Santana's impending orgasm. Quinn glanced up at the vision above her - chest heaving with uneven breath, hovering on the edge before tumbling over into blinding pleasure. The blonde pressed her tongue into Santana and coaxed the waves of orgasm out of the brunette. She reached her hands under Santana, grabbed her firm ass, and pulled Santana even closer to her, angling her hips for more access. Quinn dove eagerly into even more wetness, feeling a throbbing tightness enveloping her tongue. She couldn't help it - she let out a moan that she didn't even know that she could make. She could feel Santana's next orgasm coming, and she smirked to herself.

"Quinn, don't stop. Please," Santana heaved her plea from parted lips that Quinn couldn't wait to kiss, to taste the arousal in that perfect mouth.

She felt the tightening on her tongue again, and the bed shifted as Santana once again gripped the sheets, balling the cotton with desperate strength. Hips bucked and Quinn grabbed Santana's ass, leaving bruises, to keep in her place as she worked Santana's clit over with her frantic tongue.

"Quiiiiinnn!" Santana nearly screamed as she crashed over the edge once more.

The blonde gently lowered Santana back to the bed and licked her inner thighs to get every last drop, to savor her - though her craving was hardly sated. She needed more; she always did.

Quinn slowly crawled up Santana exhausted body, mapping each curve and scar with her eyes - refreshing her memory, for she knew every inch by heart. She reverently kissed the skin above Santana's heart, which she could hear beating loudly as she was coming down from her high.

Santana reached up and wrapped her hand into the hair at the base of Quinn's neck, pulling her down. "That was incredible, Q. So fucking hot." She laughed to herself, "I don't think I can see straight right now."

Quinn smiled and leaned down to softly, slowly kiss Santana, moaning at the taste of the lingering arousal in her mouth. She pulled away to nuzzle Santana's neck and inhaled deeply, tickling the sensitive flesh below. "Mmmmmm, vanilla," she said to herself and to no one at all.

Santana giggled. Yep, Santana Fucking Lopez actually giggled, which only made Quinn beam.

"So I smell good, huh?" the brunette asked, grinning at Quinn, who now rested on an elbow looking down at her very satisfied girlfriend.

"So good. You….you don't even know." Just when she thought she could relax and bask in the candlelight and Santana's glow, she shifted at the thought of Santana's smell. Her tongue snuck out and licked her bottom lip. Hazel-green eyes started to grow darker, and she rolled off of her elbow and back on top of a rather surprised Santana.

"More" was all she growled.

_Fin._


End file.
